


Welcome to the 2%

by Filmsterr



Series: Romantically [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Birthday Sex, Drabble, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Jealousy, M/M, Slice of Life, unadulterated fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-05-09 13:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filmsterr/pseuds/Filmsterr
Summary: A series of timestamps for the Romantically verse, following Dean and Castiel through high school, into college, and beyond.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! I've been waiting so long to finally get a little collection out for this verse. I'm very attached to these two characters. The posts will be sparing, as ideas come and go, but for now I'm just happy to have a chance to playground with them again.

It was a cold, snowy morning in January when Dean heard his dad’s voice calling out for him from the bottom of the stairs. He was hesitant to give in an open his eyes, resistant even, since he thought it likely that his dad was going to make him shovel the fresh snow off the walkway, and Dean really didn’t like the idea of leaving the warmth and comfort of his bed just yet. 

Especially because of what day it was. Specifically, it was the twenty-fourth cold and snowy morning in January, which meant that it was Dean’s birthday. HIs eighteenth. The opening ceremony into adulthood, and the first day of the rest of his life. 

Ideally, he would have woken up with his boyfriend in his arms, and the smell of bacon grazing his nostrils, and he’d feel like a changed man. As it is, he’d just like ten more minutes underneath the covers.

“Dean! You hear me?”

“Argh,” Dean grumbled to no one but himself. Can’t very well go on ignoring the old man all day. He’d just march up to Dean’s room and rip the blanket off him himself. Call it a warm welcome into manhood. Dean chuckled fondly at the thought, even as the coldness of his room made him shiver the whole time he was getting dressed. 

Eventually, he managed to throw on some jeans and his favorite Zeppelin t-shirt, because even if it was just for shoveling, Dean liked to celebrate in little ways the fact that the day was special. When he reached the bottom of the stairs though, he frowned, since his father was nowhere to be seen. “Dad?” he called out, a little confused, and still a little sleepy. 

That’s when another face popped out from behind the corner where the hallway met the kitchen, smiling large and wide and maybe a little sappy as she bounded down the hall with arms outstretched. “Oh, there he is,” Mary yelled, a little loud for Dean’s ears but welcome nonetheless, “my birthday boy. My big, grown-up man.”

“Mom,” he muttered where his mouth was muffled by her sweater. It’s a little embarrassing, but in reality Dean actually kind of like the attention. He knows that one big part of getting older is that he won’t have many more years where his parents fawn over him, treat him like their little boy. And after the scare with his dad last year, Dean tried to remind himself to be grateful for every day he had with his parents. Every hug, every hair ruffle, eveyr argument. 

“Sorry,” she apologized as she pulled back from him, “I know I'm not allowed to baby you anymore.”

“It’s alright.” And then, trying to change the subject, “Is there by any chance a delicious birthday breakfast waiting for me?” He sniffed the air and found no bacon scent lingering, which made him pout dramatically, and kind of defeated the point of making a show out of not being treated like a kid anymore.

His mother gave him a look that was normally only deployed when she knew one of her boys was lying, or if she herself was hiding something. Dean regarded her curiously. 

“I’ll start cooking it just as soon as you tell me to,” she told him, “but I’ve got the impression that you’re going to want to wait a little while.”

Dean’s scowl deepened, and he opened his mouth to inquire as to what exactly she meant, but Mary just cut him off with a wag of the finger and said, “Ah, ah. You just go see your father. He’s in the garage.”

She used her delicate hands to spin him around and push him on his way, but Dean still turned around to give her a funny look. She just shook her head and turned away, so Dean continued out the door and headed over to the garage, ready to grab a shovel and get to work. 

He found his dad there, leaning back on the frame of the Impala, jingling the keys in his hands. He was staring down at them, looking like he was lost somewhere in thought, maybe in another time.

“Dad? You wanted me?”

John looked up at the sound of his son’s voice. His mouth quirked into a funny, one-sided smile. Then he tossed the keys in a fluid, one-handed motion and Dean caught them reflexively. “Happy birthday, son.”

It took a second for the revelation to hit Dean. He looked down at the silver keys between his fingers, and then at his father, and then at the sleek black car he’s always thought of as his second home. 

Finally, he heard his own voice squawking, “What? Are you serious?”

His dad shrugged easily, as if it was no big deal. But Dean knew. He knew how massive a transaction this was in the course of their relationship. He knew, and he couldn’t understand that his father was really, seriously, giving him his car right now. 

“You’re a man now. You'll be needing some way to get around and cause trouble. And I’m getting too old for all the upkeep she needs. Figure it’s about time I pass the workload off to you.”

The words registered in Dean’s brain, but they’re drowned out by all the thoughts of his own that are racing around like it’s the Indy 500 inside his head. He saw himself setting out of the road in this car, sunglasses on his face, good tunes on the radio. The wind coming in fast as he sped down the highway; one hand on the wheel and the other, on the bucket seat, gripping Castiel’s fingers where they curled around his. 

“Oh,” Dean popped his head up as the thought occurred to him like a stroke of brilliance, “Can I take her over to Cas’?”

He caught the immediate way thats John’s face fell, his eyes dimming slightly, and with no pause at all Dean felt like the biggest asshole in the world. Here his dad was, giving him this big, important thing, this symbol that meant so much, and Dean asked if he could go screw off and show it off to his boyfriend, without even saying thank you. What a jerk. 

“Oh no, I mean--”

“It’s alright,” his father waved him off, “You go on and strut her around for Castiel. We’ll take her out later.”

Dean hesitated, grimacing. “Are… you sure?”

John nodded. “I’ve got to go eat up all that bacon your mother saved for you, anyway.”

Dean laughed. There was a fat chance that Mom would let him have bacon, especially considering the fancy diet the doctor’d had him on since he went into remission, but Dean appreciated the ribbing for what it was. Still, he made sure to go over to his dad and look him in the eye when he told him, “Thank you. Really, Dad, I… I don’t even…”

His dad clapped a hand on his shoulder and his playful grin became sincere. “You’re welcome, Dean. Y’know, this is why parents have kids. To make sure there’s someone to take care of our stuff for us when we’re gone.”

He didn’t think his dad meant it that way, but the way he said it made Dean feel all kinds of emotional all over again, so he just went for it and dove it for a hug from his old man. He clasped him tight, real tight, until his dad’s hand repeatedly tapping his shoulder let him know that it was time to let go.

John cleared his throat and nodded away. “Well. Get goin’ then.” Dean gave a quick nod in salute and then jogged over to the other side of the car as fast as he could. Just before he opened the door though- “and Dean?”

He looked up to where his father was still standing on the other side of the car. His raised his eyebrows, listening. 

“You take care of her, alright? I’m serious, if I found out that one single thing has happened to this car--”

“Yes, sir. I promise.” Dean thought it was probably about the second most important promise he had ever made in his life. 

He ducked into the car then and took off without even a second thought. He took time to revel in the way she purred as she cruised along, the smooth roll of her tires as they went down familiar streets together. 

If anything made him feel like a man, it was being able to call this car his own. He actually couldn't really believe it was true. 

There was no one he wanted to share this with more than Cas. He felt like gunning it during the ten-minute drive, which would be reckless and not at all going along with what he'd promised to his Dad not five minutes ago. 

He knew Cas was expecting him. They’d talked last night, and there was a standing plan to hang out today (because, there was also no one he'd rather spend his birthday with). It was casual, but it was supposed to be a little well-deserved relaxation for the two of them. Dean had been working a lot of extra hours at his job, and Cas, well.... he'd been a bit of a shitshow lately. In a nice way. 

Dean knew that Cas had been stressed about his college applications. Dean couldn’t exactly relate, but he did understand. Hell, if he was as smart as Cas was, he probably would have cracked under the pressure a long time ago. His parents were always riding his ass to study more, practice longer, even after he got the highest score on the SAT of anybody in their whole _school_. Probably the whole county. The guy was applying to all kind of big-name, Ivy-League schools. 

And yeah, the whole thing made him feel kind of stressed out, too. He had no idea if the two of them would end up in the same school, or even the same state. He didn't know what it would be like if they were confined to texts and phone calls; didn't know how he'd get by without being able to hold Cas and hug him and kiss him whenever he wanted. 

But, all that in due time. Today was a reprieve. A day for celebration. 

He texted Cas to come outside after he parked next to the front curb, and then he stood expectantly against the car while he waited. He tried to figure out which position made him look the most cool, the most relaxed and like and adult person who had a badass car which should totally earn him like at least some serious added sex appeal, if not maybe like a blow job or two?

The front door of the Novak house opened and shut, and Dean struggled not to smirk as he watched Castiel meander across his snowy front lawn, that damn beige coat flapping after him. When he was right in front of him, he eyed Dean skeptically and crossed his arms over his own body. 

“What exactly am I supposed to be impressed by?” 

Dean gestured proudly at the vehicle behind him, but Castiel’s face remained utterly neutral. “I’ve seen your father’s car before, Dean.”

“Ah, yes. But you’ve never seen _my_ car before.”

Castiel frowned then, like he didn’t get the hint, which he almost definitely didn’t because he was Cas. Dean couldn’t help but crack a smile, even as he wrapped his arms further around himself because the cold was really getting to him. “My dad gave her to me,” he explained gently, “as a present. Because, you know. It’s my birthday.”

Truly, he wouldn’t have been mad if Cas had forgotten. He could be kind of unpredictable, even with his practically encyclopedic memory, you could be sure the information was in there somewhere, but you never knew what would be taking priority that day. 

For that comment, though, he received one of Castiel’s harsher glares. “Of course I know that it’s your birthday,” he contended, stomping closer to Dean and leaving tracks in the snow behind him. When he was standing just in front of Dean, the anger melted away from his face, and his expression became an entirely softer thing all together. “Happy Birthday.”

His voice was soft and light like the freshly-fallen snow, and the kiss he pressed to Dean’s lips was even softer still. Dean felt a shiver that started at the nape of his neck and travelled all the way down, the whole while reminding him of what a lucky son of a bitch he was. 

“Did you get me a present?”

“Yes.”

“Are you gonna give it to me?”

“Yes. But not right now. It requires that we be somewhere entirely more private and that you be wearing less clothing.”

Another shiver. Dean exhaled shakily, but plastered on a cocky smile. “Kinky. I love it already.”

Castiel seemed pleased enough by that response. But not one second later, he took a step back and gave Dean an appraising look. 

Dean assumed this was meant as a compliment, and he started to do a little turn, giving his boyfriend a full three-sixty of his new self. “Do I look different? More adult? Sophisticated? Refined.”

“You appear to be cold. Why aren’t you wearing a coat?”

Dean shrank. “Grown men don’t need coats?” he tried weakly. 

Cas rolled his eyes so hard Dean actually felt a little shame. “I will lend you one of mine.”

Dean knew that it was no use arguing, so he didn’t. He just let Castiel shuffle back up to this house and didn’t complained when he emerged moments later with a jacket that was entirely much too puffy to be worn by someone over the age of six, let alone someone who had newly entered the realm of adulthood. 

But it wasn’t actually so bad, because Dean was actually significantly warmer with the coat on. And it was only Cas who’d see him, and Cas had already assured him, rather directly, that he almost always found Dean attractive, irrelevant to the fact of what he was (or was not) wearing. 

And at least it wasn’t the trench coat. Thank God for that. 

After they were both suitably dressed for the weather and zipped to Castiel’s liking (all the way up), Dean coaxed him into the passenger seat of _his_ Impala and then jogged around to the driver’s side and slid into his rightful place. 

He took a moment to run his hands over the sleek leather of her interior. All the parts he'd known intimately, his entire life, taking on a new face somehow. 

“Just think of all the stuff we can do in this car," he breathed out, with no short supply of wonder in his voice, "We can go wherever we want, whenever we want. Nothing holding us back.”

Castiel didn’t say anything to that, just kept leaning on his elbow and looking out the window. Dean tried to catch from his peripheral vision which of his many faces he was wearing just then. He’d gotten pretty good at being able to pin where Castiel’s mind was just from his expression. 

But, it wasn’t a perfect science. They were both just human, after all. 

Today he seemed content. Quiet, but serene. Dean knew that Castiel didn’t really ‘get’ his thing for cars, this one specifically. But he did recognize that it was important to Dean. So he was happy that Dean was happy, which made Dean feel even happier about everything. 

He reached his hand out to lay over Castiel’s and ran his thumb over the soft touch he found there. He always loved how small and slender Castiel’s hands were. They were made for instruments and academia. Dean was built from the ground up, made for hard labor and hot days; and there was something out the meeting of those two opposites that made Dean feel… complete. 

“What do you say we park her over by the school and give her a good old-fashioned christening, huh?”

Cas could be funny about sex. He wasn’t like Dean, who was always down for it, any time, any where, any weather, whatever. Cas needed to be in the mood. Which Dean didn’t mind, not one little bit. But sometimes it could get confusing, when Dean thought the way to fix a problem is with a little fooling around, and he ended up being way, way off-base, and normally made things worse. 

But then again, he was the one who started it all. Getting Dean all hot and bothered thinking about that birthday present. 

Dean was very happy to see that today, there was that little twinkle in Castiel’s eyes that normally meant he is pretty willing to follow along for Dean’s shenanigans. Which was a very good sign. 

“I believe it would be a re-christening,” he pointed out, as if giving the idea a significant amount of thought, “as we’ve already engaged in every type of sexual relation imaginable in this vehicle.”

Dean sighed aloud as he fondly remembered each and every one of those occasions. They’re all vivid in his memories, he’d made such a big deal out of making sure they managed to try them all. ( _Cas but we haven’t tried-- no with my mouth-- now you get on top...)_

“You’re right,” he conceded, looking playfully wistful before he busted out his trump card: “But… we’ve never had birthday sex in here.”

Castiel took a long moment to reflect on that. And then, at last, he turned to Dean and murmured, “I suppose we haven’t.”

Success. “Alright then,” Dean nearly hissed out in excitement as he pulled the Impala into a parking space and cut the engine. “Why don’t you come crawlin’ over here then and give me a kiss?”

Cas put up no resistance. He moved his awkward, clumsy, weirdly sexy way across the seat and climbed directly into Dean's lap, settling so that his weight was comfortably balanced on Dean's thighs and so that Dean could just barely detect the line of his ass through his jeans. It made Dean practically want to purr. 

"So." He raised a hand to brush a bit of hair behind Castiel's ear. "What's this no-clothes-required birthday present you've got for me?"

Castiel leaned down to press his lips against Dean's, letting the tension build for a moment while their tongues slid expertly across one another's and Dean's hands settled on the small of his back. "I think you're going to like it. I've been practicing with a lot of yoga videos."

Dean inhaled a harsh breath. His fingers squeezed at his boyfriend's hips. "Goddamn. I love you so fucking much."

Cas got one of his smiles then. One of those small, secretive smiles that only ever Dean saw. It made Dean feel like his heart might explode in his chest every time he saw it, and sometimes it made him feel so scared, the thought that there might come a day when he wouldn't see that smile anymore. 

But for now he had it. And that was so, so good. 

Cas kept the smile when he leaned in to keep going at Dean's mouth with his own, the intensity building each times their lips reconnected. He whispered, "I know."


	2. Chapter 2

The first occasion they had to take the Impala for a proper trip, give her a chance to let her stretch her legs, was the same day that they got to play hooky from school without even getting in trouble for it. Jo had discovered this loophole (and of course it would be Jo, troublemaker that she was) that college visits counted as excused absences for seniors, and Dean had needed no convincing to get in on that action. So, early one Friday morning, he loaded up his Baby and hit the road for Manhattan. 

Manhattan, Kansas, that is. Which is where KSU was located. 

Jo wanted to go check out the campus since she was thinking of applying there, and Dean saw it as a good a reason as any to get out of going to school. Benny and Garth filled up the other two seats in the back, and Cas came along because Dean asked him to.

Dean didn’t feel great about his chances of getting into KSU. It might just be a state school, but it was still pretty good, and there were loads of people from all over the country applying to get in, most of whom were way smarter than him. But… when Dean thought about it, he thought maybe KSU would be one of the only schools that he could maybe just squeeze into that would be good enough for Cas, too. And he’d give anything to be able to go to the same school as Cas.

So maybe, just a little bit, he was hoping that today could show Cas that there were some options close to home that could give those big fancy colleges a run for their money. 

The drive was less than two hours, which was good considering Garth had too much energy to be contained in one car, and a bladder the size of a walnut. After Dean parked the Impala in a lot on campus, they started the day off with a guided tour. Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand and pulled him up front, so that they could get a good earful of everything the guide was saying.

Every time he rattled off something of interest, Dean would repeat it excitedly for Castiel’s benefit. “You hear that, Cas? They got their own nature preserve. That’s pretty cool, huh?” 

Castiel’s eyes, thought, were focused off in the distance. He squinted at some trees or something and pointed a finger in their direction. “I think I see some Smooth Purple Agalinis over there," he muttered, almost to himself. "Do you see that, Dean? It’s very rare.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but tugged Castiel along all the same. Maybe the smooth purple whatever would convince him to consider KSU. 

He did pay attention though when Dean made a crass joke about the some of the research centers they have on campus ("I'll show you some _complex fluids_ later.") but only long enough to scold him for it (" _Dean_." "Sorry."). 

When the tour ended, and Dean was sure that Castiel had caught about thirty percent of  it and only that through sheer osmosis, the group split into several pieces. There was a student activities fair on the quad and everybody wanted to check out different booths, so it was decided that they would meet back at the dining hall around lunch time. 

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Dean asked of Castiel, after waving off the others. He was worried, that Cas might feel overwhelmed by all the people, all the new sights and sounds.

“No.” Cas told him, already turning away. Dean tried not to feel a sting in the bluntness of it. “I’m going to look into the Audubon Society over there.”

Dean watched him walk away without a care in the world. “Well, alright!” he called across the crowd. “Don’t let me hold you up!”

But in reality, he wasn’t bothered. He was glad that Cas felt comfortable enough to strike out on his own. As for him, he had seen a few booths that caught his eye, and he was more than capable of doing a little exploration on his own.

He visited a table for student athletes first, and had a good long talk with them about his baseball stats. They seemed more than interested in taking on a new second baseman, which had Dean leaving the conversation feeling pretty good. He picked up pamphlets from the student newspaper and the campus health center, both of which he thought would interest Castiel. 

He was wandering aimlessly, trying to scan the aisles to see if there was any sort of LGBTQ group on campus, when another booth caught his eye and he found himself strolling towards it. 

“Hey,” the girl at the booth said, her manner friendly and open, “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

Dean paused, leaving space between himself and her while he analyzed her face. “I don’t think so,” he told her skeptically, lips pursed.

“No, I do," she smiled wide, leaning farther over the booth toward him. Dean's gaze couldn't help but be drawn down to the deep V of her t-shirt, below which sat a line of three Greek letters he couldn't identify. "We’ve got a class together, don’t we?”

Here Dean was able to confirm his suspicions. He inched closer to the booth, though his guard went up as he did. Still, he kept a relaxed expression on his face. Admittedly, he had to have respect for the game. From one former player to another, he saw what she was getting at, and- even though there was no way in hell he'd even waste the energy on pretending to engage- he still had to appreciate it for what it was. 

Best to let her down easy then. “I doubt it. Unless you go to Lawrence High.”

The girl's jaw dropped in a totally fake, exaggerated way. “You’re a high school student? No way.” When Dean gave her a cool nod, she insisted, “I would’ve sworn you were a sophomore, at least.”

Dean sent a smirk her way. “What can I say? I’m old for my age.”

“I’ll bet you are.” She muttered, barely concealing the way she bit her lip. And, okay- the way she was laying it on so thick was actually wearing Dean out. He thought about dropping it, going to look for Castiel at whatever Classical Music Lovers booth he might be at. But the girl pressed him, “You’re coming here next year?”

He answered her in a shrug. “Maybe. ‘s possible.”

She grinned extra wide and Dean noticed the way her teeth looked extra white against her tan skin. She leaned over the table (again, and Dean almost rolled his eyes) and pushed a few pamphlets his way. “Well, you’ve _got_ to join Greek Life.”

Dean hummed in genuine interest as he picked up the readings she offered. He'd actually considered joining a frat. Their stuff about brotherhood and bonding sounded right up his alley. He wouldn’t be opposed to being sold on that.

“Do I?” he asked her, eyes focused on the pamphlet in front of him instead of where she wanted them. 

She persisted though. She pushed herself so far forward so that her breasts were practically touching Dean’s arm. He took a pronounced step backward. 

“Oh, for sure,” she said, her voice low and full. “It’s so much fun. You get all these new brothers, and you get to be part of something bigger. You know, if you get through initiation, which I’m sure you would. And it’s great, you know, ‘cus it's not just one house or anything. We're a community. So, you know... you get to hang out with cute sorority girls, too."

Dean placed the pamphlet down and looked at her once again. “Sounds like a lot of fun,” he surmised, and he was ready to add that it wasn’t for him and make it exit, when he was interrupted. 

“Dean,” announced his very favorite baritone voice as it suddenly appeared beside him. “There you are. Finally, I’ve found you. This place is a labyrinth.”

Dean was all to happy to see Castiel standing beside him. He instantly reached down to slide his hand into Cas’ and leaned in to dot a quick kiss on his lips. “Hey, babe,” he greeted with a smile, “did you have fun?”

“I visited many booths, and collected a great deal of reading material as well. Did you? Good, we can compare in the c--”

Beside them, a squawking noise had called away both of their attentions, and caused Castiel to cut himself off mid-sentence. Greek Life girl was standing with her mouth wide open, her brows furrowed, looking between Dean and Castiel as if there were four heads between the two of them. 

“Hello,” said Castiel, awkwardly. He said it out of the social necessity of it, Dean was sure, and not because he was interested in talking to her. He couldn’t imagine how confused Cas must have been right then, a complete stranger gawking at him for something he did as normally as breathing. 

“You…” the girl started but didn’t finish. 

Dean relished the way she looked completely petrified. People were always assuming he was straight, just because he looked a certain way and wore loose jeans and listened to rock music. And honestly, it ticked him off. He shouldn’t have to go coming out of the closet every twenty minutes, to people he barely knew, making some big to-do about it.

But this time, he was more than happy to indulge. He stepped forward, Cas’ hand still in his, and apologized. “Whoops, how rude of me. This is Castiel, my boyfriend.”

“Your… boyfriend.”

God, Dean liked hearing it even more when she said it. He was always proud to call Cas his boyfriend, it made him happy and giggly and all that Hallmark crap. But right now, it felt like a rebellion. It felt like Dean was making some sort of radical statement, telling this pretty college girl to fuck off, that he'd rather spend his time with the grumpy boy in the old man trench coat. 

He felt the words spilling out of him with a kind of inspiration he didn't know he was capable of.“Yeah. We’re both thinking of going here next year. Thinking of signing up to room together and then pushing our beds into one big bed, calling it the Megabed. Sounds fun, right?”

She continued to stare, open-mouthed and frozen from shock, all the while he was rambling on. He didn’t turn around, but he could feel Cas’ eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. 

“Dean, I’ve never-”

Dean gave his hand a tight squeeze in what he hoped would be a secret message that even Castiel could understand. It seemed he did, since his mouth snapped shut and then it was back to Dean to talk. 

“Anyway, was nice chatting with you…” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her interruption. 

“Amy.”

“… Amy, but we’ve got to be heading out now. I’ll just keep one of these,” he darted forward and grabbed a pamphlet off of the table. “Hey, you don’t happen to know where the LGBT group on campus would be? Y’know, the gay one?”

Her face transformed into something like a pout, and she quickly shook her head and turned her back to them. This answer was enough to satisfy Dean, since he had no real of staying at this fair my longer. He walked away from the booths and kiosks, from all the bustling activity, following one of the footpaths laid out on campus. He didn't say anything at first, reflecting on what felt like a victory for him. A victory over all the people who assume he was something that he wasn't; that he didn't look enough one way or act enough of another to actually be what he was.

For him, the silence was calm, relaxed. But he could tell that beside him, Castiel's mind was working, trying to decipher which were the right words to speak out loud. 

Finally, he settled on: “Dean, we’ve never discussed any kind of ‘mega’ bed before.”

Dean brought Cas' hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I know. I was just messin’ around. But it actually sounds pretty cool, doesn’t it?” Then a wave of curiosity, harmless, hit him and he had to ask, “Hey, you’re not jealous, are you?”

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Just cause… you know, cause that girl was flirting with me.”

Castiel made a noise that indicated his interest. His head tilted in that way he always did, and Dean was glad that his hand was intertwined with Cas' to discourage him from ruffling his boyfriend's hair. Cas does not like to be ruffled. “Was she? Well I assume you did not reciprocate."

"Of course not!"

"Well, then I see no reason for jealousy. She garnered no interest from you. Whereas I am your boyfriend, and you engage in flirtation with me quite often." There was the slightest hint of pride in his last phrase, but for the most part he delivered his speech with a clinical lack of emotion. "I’m unconcerned about the imaginations of random girls.”

“Oh. Okay then.”

Dean guessed that settled that. Cas always had a way of pointing out when Dean was making a big deal out of things that he didn't need to. Cas was smart, he wasn't going to waste his energy worrying about things that didn't matter, or wouldn't ever happen. But Dean knew that if _he_ saw some college student putting the moves on Cas, he'd be storming over there to stake his claim before they could so much as wink at the poor unsuspecting guy. 

Cas stopped walking suddenly, and in doing so tugged Dean's hand to pull him backward. “Did you want me to be jealous?”

He asked with a certain urgency, as if it had just occurred to him in that moment and perhaps he had been missing out on something for a long while. His eyes were shining with worry and his brows got all scrunchy in the middle of his forehead.

And even though Dean thought, somewhere in his brain, that he might have liked to have the kind of boyfriend who'd get possessive, or clingy, or make a show of fighting for him, he knows that none of those qualities hold a candle to the boy standing in front of him. So he smiled softly and let the hand that held Castiel's swing gently between them, and he said, “No, Cas. I didn’t want you to be jealous.”

“Good." Cas sounded significantly relieved, and began walking again. "Because it would be an absurd waste of energy.”

Dean couldn't argue with him there. He knew that Castiel was the one for him, and he'd never been shy about letting him know that. He was glad that Castiel had taken that in, that he trusted Dean so undoubtedly. Dean just watched too many high school dramas. That was his problem. 

They walked along for a few minutes, and it was right around then that Dean realized he didn't know where they were going and that it was probably time to go meet up with the other. But his attention was pulled away once again, when Castiel announced out of nowhere, with a funny note in his tone. “If I worried about every person that found you attractive, I’d have little time left to do much else.”  

Dean peered over at him sideway, his grin growing slowly until he was unabashedly beaming at his boyfriend. Cas kept his eyes trained elsewhere, avoiding Dean's gaze, until he decides to decides to clarify his statement. “That was an attempt to indicate how attractive you are.”

That was it. Cas was getting ruffled, like it or not. “Yeah, you dope, I got that,” Dean laughed, running his hand through Cas' already messy locks. “Well, I’m telling you now that the only person’s opinion I care about on whether I’m hot or not is you. Capische?”

As usual, Cas agreed easily with what Cas told him. No questions. No doubts. Dean grabbed his hand and led him over toward the food hall, where Jo and Benny and Garth were supposed to be waiting for them. And, weirdly, he felt more hopeful than he had this morning, even though he still had no idea where he or Cas would end up next year. Because, looking over at this mop-headed dork with the soft hands that Dean loved holding between his own, he just knew that there was no way this thing between them could go belly up. Not if Dean had any say in it. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Jo, 4:46 PM:** _Have you seen Cas today?_

Dean sat up from where we he was lying down on the couch and frowned, looking down at his phone. The message seemed... weird? Not that Jo didn’t like Cas or anything, but she wasn’t generally the type to go asking checking up on him through Dean. 

He typed back a quick response. 

 **Dean, 4:47 PM:** _No, why?_

 **Jo, 4:48 PM:** _I just saw him sitting alone in the park. He looked upset._

 **Jo, 4:48 PM:** _You should go check on him._

There were probably people who'd be insulted by the intrusion, by the implication that he didn't know how to take care of his boyfriend on his own. Dean was glad not to be one of those people. He and Cas were pretty private, sure, when it came to their romantic life, but Dean was willing to share almost everything with his friends. And if Jo was going to take an interest in Cas, well, all the better. So he wasn't going to not take advice when it came. 

 **Dean, 4:49 PM:** _Thanks for the heads up._

Before he even heard the whooshing noise of his message being delivered, his slid his phone into his pocket and searched for a hoodie, zipping it up and calling out to his mom that he was going out. It was late spring and warm enough that he didn't need the sweatshirt, but he wasn't sure how long this would take, so best to bring something in case it got cold later. 

The park was enough of a distance that he could have taken his car, but he opted to walk instead. The fresh air did him good, since he'd been in the house since he got off work earlier, and concentrating on the movement let him do something other than fret over Castiel's wellbeing for the duration of the trip. He did try to think to himself if Castiel's mood could be related to him in anyway- something he did wrong, or didn't do at all- but nothing came to mind.

Not to mention that he highly doubted that Castiel would keep him in the dark about something like that. Communication was a big deal for them now; he was very vocal about his feelings now when they arose, and Dean always tried his best to be sensitive to them. That didn't mean that they never fought, but it was usually about something little or stupid. They didn't have any big problems. Things were good between them. 

It took maybe twenty minutes to get to the park, and not much longer for Dean to spot a patch of black and beige slouched down on a bench just down the path. He had to stop himself from speed-walking over, and shoved his hands into his jean pockets to keep himself looking casual.

"Hey," he greeted, a little awkwardly, when he'd shuffled close enough to be heard. Castiel raised his head. He looked pained. The weariness in his eyes made Dean internally wince, and he instantly wanted to rush forward and wrap his arms about Castiel, to brush his fingers through the tousled black hair and let him know what whatever it was, this problem, that Dean would help him as much as he could. 

But knew Cas, and he knew that wasn't what he needed. So he bit down on his weird mother hen instinct (which he didn't even know where it came from) and waited for Cas to speak. 

"Hello, Dean."

Dean kept his hands to himself but inched closer. "Mind if I take a seat?" Cas answered with a shake of his head, so he moved over and seated himself next to the other boy. Not so close so their thighs touched, but Cas' trench coat was somewhat tucked up underneath his leg. 

For a while, neither of them said anything. Which wasn't particularly odd for them, there were plenty of times when Dean was content to sit with his boyfriend, just thinking and listening and letting his mind wander. But now, there was something in the silence. Something hidden, weighty, and Dean didn't like it. So he sat there, trying to figure out the right thing exactly to say. But, in the end, it was Cas who opened his mouth first.

“Did you know that Jo used to have feelings for you?”

Dean looked over at him and quirked an eyebrow. That was... not what he had expected to hear. Cas wasn't one for jealousy, especially not with someone he knew, like Jo. But he wouldn't look at Dean, wouldn't meet his eye. Dean might've laughed if he didn't feel so many nerves simmering beneath the surface. 

“Yeah," he said at last, "when we were kids.”

Castiel remained even-toned. “She admitted that to me just now." He paused. "Perhaps it was in confidence. I’m not sure I should have said anything.”

Dean shook his head.  _“_ Doesn’t matter. What’s going on with you?”

Cas pursed his lips, and he looked so much like Grumpy Cat that it was even harder for Dean not to laugh. But he focused on containing himself, on keeping a straight face while he listened intently. “I’ve been… thinking.”

“Uh-oh.” Dean smirked. “That’s never good.” The way Cas’ countenance grew cold only served to make Dean more serious. “I’m sorry, bad joke. Talk to me.”

“I’m thinking about…. next year," Castiel admitted in the middle of a sigh. The way all the air left his body in one fluid movement left him slumped over. He finally turned his head to look at Dean, and his expression was so distressed that it instantly threw Dean off his game. “We’ve broken up once before Dean, and though it may sound melodramatic, it was in fact the worst week of my life. I have no desire to repeat that feeling.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean held up his hands to make Castiel slow down. "Reel it back there, buddy. Who’s talking about breaking up?”

Dean was trying to play it cool, to keep it calm for Cas’ sake, but already he felt panic settling in his gut and could hear the blood rushing in his ears. 

“It’s a statistical certainty, Dean.” 

And damn if that didn’t just about make Dean’s heart drop down to the floor right then. He sank onto the bench beside Castiel, as much to steady himself as to comfort his boyfriend. “Nothing is certain, Cas. You’re freaking out.”

“Do you know how many relationships from high school last into college?” He posed the question seriously, as a real inquiry. He expected an answer from Dean... who, of course, had no idea, so he just shook his head. Cas went on, “Well, I couldn’t find an exact number, but all estimates settle somewhere around thirty percent. In mid-november, around Thanksgiving, that number is cut in half. _In half_. In just two months.”

Dean disliked being made part of some random statistic. But he knew that was how Cas' brain worked, he needed numbers and knowledge to make him feel comfortable. He didn't like going into anything blind. Uncertainty made him nervous. 

“Of course this depends on many factors, distance being a key one," he continued when Dean didn't have anything immediate to say in response, "and since we don’t know yet which schools we’ll be attending, we can only assume that that will be one of our difficulties.”

Okay, Dean didn’t have a handy quip for that one either, because Cas was kind of right. He searched for something to say, something to sooth Castiel's fears. But he could feel his own anxiety building with each word out of Cas' mouth. 

“Communication is already difficult enough as it is being right next to one another.” Cas’ face darkened even more, and the hopelessness there made him almost unrecognizable to Dean's eyes. He'd never seen his boyfriend like this. Not in almost two years together. “I don’t see how I could… I… I’ve told you before, Dean, I’m not good at this.”

“You don’t have to be.” It was the only thing Dean could think to say, even if it didn't come out quite right. "I mean, you are. I get you, and you get me. That's not going to change."

Finally, Cas took a pause from talking. He stared down at his hands, where they sat in his lap, right near where his leg rested against Dean's. He was wrestling internally with himself. 

“Of the fifteen percent of couples who endure past the first year of college, do you know how many stay together for the duration? Who go on to have a successful marriage?”

Dean had expected to be more freaked out when the word ‘marriage’ popped out suddenly from between Cas’ rosy, panicked lips. Maybe he should have been. But he wasn’t. Some part of him already knew that Cas was the end game for him. 

“No," he answered calmly, "I don’t know, Cas.”

“Two percent,” Castiel replied, and it was the saddest Dean had ever heard him sound. "Two.”

Dean inhaled a deep breath. He clasped his hands in front of him, determination setting in. He set aside his own trepidation, his hesitance. He was going to fix this for Castiel if it was the last thing he ever did. 

“Do you know what I have to say to that, Cas?”

He watched as Castiel shook his head, sullenly. He reached over and placed a hand under Cas' chin, pulled it up so that he had to look Dean in the eye when he said, “Welcome to the two percent.”

For a minute Cas lookedat Dean and his eyes were so alight with hope. But it faded out just as fast, his irises losing their shine as his mouth drooped into a frown. “You can’t simply say things like that and hope them to be true. It doesn’t work like that, Dean.”

“The hell it doesn’t," Dean told him defiantly. He let go of Castiel's chin and took his hand instead. "Listen, someone has gotta be in that two percent, right? Why not us?"

He could see Cas struggling against him, wanting so bad to take him at face value but knowing, but with the numbers and statistics flashing before his eyes, it was hard. Castiel wasn't hardwired for hope. That wasn't what he grew up on, and he'd never had much reason to feel it. But that was before Dean. Dean wanted so badly to be the thing that gave him hope like he'd never had before. 

"I know it's a lot, and it's scary. But honestly, Cas? I'm not scared." Dean held his hand tight and made the words seem like a promise. "All I need is for you to trust me. And you can do that, I know you can. You've done it before. You just have to decide if you can do it again."

Cas wasn't partial to romantic nonsense. Dean didn't expect any declarations of unending faithfulness or unquestioned trust. He was more than happy when Castiel let him slide an arm around his shoulder and told him quietly. "Okay."

Okay. That was enough. Cas trusted him, and Dean trusted himself not to ever, ever do anything to make himself undeserving of that. 

 

Later that evening, when Dean was holding Castiel's sleeping body against him in his bed, just before he'd have to wake him up to send him home for the evening, he received another text message. 

 **Jo, 10:30 PM:** So? Everything okay?

Dean paused before he responded. He took a minute to look down at Castiel, at how peaceful he looked, the way his chest expanded and contracted with each measured breath. Dean could imagined how exhausted he was: all those emotions in one day, it was a lot for him. 

Still, he couldn't help thinking how uncomplicated it was. He was unsure how long he'd be able to say that. He wanted to believe that things would always be easy between them, as long as they loved each other as much as they could. But he wasn't naive. He knew that life got messy and people changed. 

But anyways, he had hope.  

 **Dean, 10:41 PM:** Yeah. Everything's gonna be just fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F8mYLi3PGOc
> 
>  
> 
> Come say hi on my tumblr:   
> https://blueskies-and-applepies.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

“I can’t believe that for all that talk, I ended up going to a college in my own damn hometown.”

Dean spoke the words during their first afternoon by themselves in their brand new dorm room housed on a sleepy corner of the U Kansas campus. Which was, as he'd confirmed this morning on the drive over with his parents and brother to move him in, a mere ten minute drive from his own front door. 

“Geography played little importance,” Castiel answered him, folding the corners of his blue plaid bedspread until they were nice and neat and tucked the way his bed at home was. “This school had everything we both wanted. A renowned business school, Division I athletics, a reasonably-sized campus…”

“Geography played a big part,” interrupted Dean as he watched the way Cas’ hands smoothed over the comforter. “Because this school is where you are, and I wanted to be wherever you were.”

Cas turned around and shot him a look. It bordered on scolding: Castiel found it foolish to derail their future plans based purely on their attachment to one another. But, obviously he must have been okay with it enough not to move all the way across the country to any of those fancy Ivy League colleges that all accepted him. Plus, Dean hoped that he could see the romance in a foolish gesture like that, even if just a little bit. 

Dean brushed him off with a wave of the hand. “Now, move out of the way. You ready?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Dean cracked a smile. “Here we go.” With a great, forceful push, he moved his bed across the linoleum floor of their dorm room. The bed whined in protest, a loud grinding noise that was probably calling the attention of all their neighbors. “Voila! Behold, Megabed.”

Castiel’s disapproving look held. “We should have gotten matching bedspreads. It looks ridiculous.”

“I like it like this. It’s quirky.”

Castiel didn’t care for quirky. Quirky was a thinly-veiled version of ‘weird’ and Castiel spent a considerable amount of energy trying to avoid anything that could be considered ‘weird’. But it was less, now that he had Dean around. Or at least, Dean liked to think that. 

In any case, Dean flopped right down onto their giant, quirky bed, and lifted one arm and one eyebrow as an invitation for Castiel to climb right up under there if he so chose. He did not so choose, opting instead to straighten out the little decorations Dean had brought from home to make this little room feel more like their own place instead of just a cement cage. 

Dean watched with amusement the way Castiel flitted around the room, tinkering with all the random objects here and there. For a while he was content just to take in his boyfriend's movements, reveling in their complete and utter lack of time constraint. But he couldn't go too long without finding something to bother Castiel with. “What’s your first class?” he asked after a while. 

“I have Applied Human Ethics at 8:25 on Monday morning.”

“8:25?” balked Dean, “Who signs up for a class that early voluntarily?”

“It was the best of several proposed schedules I drew up,” Cas explained without turning around, sounding rather unconcerned about the whole thing. 

Dean lowered his arm and huffed playfully. “Whatever. But you better not be waking me up every Monday morning or I will be grumpy as hell.”

A long moment passed in which Castiel was silent, and Dean thought that he’d just decided to drop the conversation, as he sometimes would. But then, after a pause, he heard him speak softly, “I’m looking forward to experiencing all of your varied moods in the morning.”

Lifting himself up so he sat against the headboard, Dean watched with piqued interest the way Castiel’s face stayed calm and smooth. There had definitely been a time when a comment like that would have felt foreign or odd coming from Castiel. But he was getting much more comfortable voicing his thoughts in regards to their relationship. He could even be, dare Dean say it, a bit of a romantic from time to time. Not hopeless. But romantic nonetheless.

Dean didn't let himself drag on for too long. A minute later, he tossed Cas a smooth wink and a smile. “Yeah, I’m excited to finally figure out how you manage to get all that hair to go all bedhead like that.”

Castiel finally turned around and gave Dean yet another long, unimpressed look. Dean thought about maybe warning him, letting him know that this was the kind of stuff that he was going to have to get used to, now that they were living together and all. 

Or, he could just let him find out all on his own. Yeah, that'd be the better option. 

"Let's go check out the food hall," he said as he slid off of the megabed and onto his feet, "I'm starving."

Cas spared a glance at the shelves lined with picture frames and knick-knacks. "I'm still organizing," he protested. 

Dean rolled his eyes fondly and reached out for Castiel's hand, began to walk him over toward the door and out the hallway. "Don't worry," he said with the confident smile of a new college man, "It'll all be here when you get back."


End file.
